


found my heart and broke it here.

by LLReid



Category: Bloodbound (Visual Novels)
Genre: F/F, High School Reunion, LGBTQ Character, LGBTQ Character of Color, LGBTQ Female Character, LGBTQ Female Character of Color, REQUEST!!, Romantic Fluff, Same-Sex Marriage, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, Vampires
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-08
Updated: 2020-10-08
Packaged: 2021-03-07 19:28:41
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,759
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26892952
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LLReid/pseuds/LLReid
Summary: Inspired by; Castle on the Hill by Ed Sheeran.~~~~~Anastasia huffed, a smirk twitching at her lips as she gestured towards a classroom down the hall. “Especially because I did detention in there at least once a week. I can’t even tell you how many times I was brought to look at these pictures by teachers I’d irritated and told I’d never see my face up there if I didn’t start conforming and stop pretending I couldn’t understand English anytime somebody said something I didn’t like or assigned work I didn’t feel like doing.”“You still pretend you don’t understand English whenever somebody says something you don’t like or asks you to do something you don’t feel like doing.” She chuckled. “You did it this morning when I asked you why, at your age, you still thought cheesecake was an appropriate breakfast food.”Anastasia blinked at her and when she spoke, she purposely thickened her accent and did her best to look clueless to what she’d just said. “I don’t understand.”All the blood in Kamilah’s body rose to her cheeks and an amused sigh escaped from the back of her throat. “You have no business being this adorable. Stop it at once.”“Either make me or spank me.”
Relationships: Kamilah Sayeed/Anastasia Sayeed, Kamilah Sayeed/Main Character (Bloodbound)
Comments: 23
Kudos: 59





	found my heart and broke it here.

**Author's Note:**

> PROMPT: Could you maybe write something where mc is invited to her high school reunion and takes kamilah with her.

If someone had told Kamilah there would ever come a time she’d be willingly attending a mortal party, she’d never have believed it. Yet there she was, doing just that. 

When an invitation addressed to Anastasia had arrived announcing the twenty year reunion of the British boarding school she’d spent her high school years in, the Bloodkeeper had scoffed at it. Yet, surprisingly, it had been Kamilah who’d asked her to reconsider. The ancient vampire had found her curiosity piqued, had found herself wanting to see exactly what her wife had been shipped out of Kazakhstan to endure by her neglectful parents.

She’d heard Anastasia’s stories of her time at the numerous boarding schools her parents had chosen for her. She knew that she’d been miserable and had struggled to assimilate to western culture and communicate in a language she had been far from fluent in when she’d first arrived in England. But she also knew how much mischief she’d gotten up to with next to no real adult supervision — the sort of things that anyone of age, or less sneaky, would likely wind up in jail for getting themselves into.

“I lost my virginity in here during a halloween disco when I was fifteen, so there’s that,” Anastasia giggled in Kamilah’s ear as she gave her the grand tour. “Believe it or not, I was dressed as a sexy vampire — with fake fangs and everything — and almost got expelled for my costume. My teachers didn’t appreciate my leather corset and over the knee stripper boots, or the fact I got drunk in the bathrooms with friends.”

“You lost your virginity in a library whilst dressed as a sexy vampire?,” Kamilah snorted. She couldn’t help but laugh at her, and behind them, several Inquisitors stirred in surprise at the sound. They may not have known her, but it was common knowledge the world over that only Anastasia could coax joy out of her so easily. “To who?”

Anastasia threw her head back and laughed. “Collin Randall.”

“The Irish man with face tattoos who called you ‘Nastyona’ and mentioned you by name in the toast he used to call out the teachers who predicted the two of you would never be successful?” She hummed and nodded her head. “A leather wearing tattoo artist who paints his nails and clearly spends too much money on hair products. Yes, indeed, he seems exactly the type of man you’d go for.”

“He may be a bit rough around the edges but he hasn’t changed a bit in twenty years!,” Anastasia laughed. “We dated on and off for two years whilst we were here and stayed best friends after we broke up. We came from similar circumstances and both had trouble following the rules so despite not having much else in common we bonded pretty fast.”

“And how was it?,” she teased, whilst wrapping her arms around her waist from behind and playfully blowing raspberries against the side of her neck. “Hmm? Could Collin Randall make you scream like I do?”

“You’re the only one who can make me do that,” Anastasia giggled, squirming in her hold as she nipped at her neck. “I think the first time I had sex lasted five minutes and I was too shocked with the pain to enjoy it. It was basically us just asking each other if we’d came yet over and over, and the sex-ed we received here was so bad that neither of us were aware of how important foreplay is. So when I say that shit hurt, I’m not exaggerating. I bled for two days, convinced myself I was either the first person in history to instantly fall pregnant and almost die of an ectopic pregnancy or was an undiagnosed haemophiliac, and then didn’t have sex with him again for months. It was a whole thing.”

She snorted and drew her closer, until she was certain she could feel her lips against her ear with every word. Anastasia’s entire body trembled as she whispered, “And here I was worrying that Samantha Dalton’s fingernails were a health and safety hazard when I should’ve been worrying about Collin Randall’s dick.”

“Kami!,” Anastasia squealed with laughter, playfully smacking her arms. “You pervert! I doubt your first time was much more successful—“

“I may or may not have gotten bored after a few minutes, faked an orgasm as well as any sixteen year old would be capable of, then finished myself off.” She sighed wistfully and draped an arm around Anastasia’s shoulders, then leaned in to playfully nip at her bottom lip. She'd proven to be one of the most delightfully aggravating people Kamilah had ever met. And fortunately for her, she was also the best sex she’d ever had. “What can I say? I’ve always been a complex individual who requires a very specific set of actions that are far beyond most people’s capabilities in order to finish. Even when I was young I found it quite impossible to find any enjoyment if my partner either couldn’t follow instructions or was too inexperienced to know how one should treat a clit.”

Anastasia’s eyes twinkled and she ran her tongue over her lips in a way that was so far from innocent she may as well already have had her panties around her ankles. “You just needed a bratty bottom who can use her mouth to do more than just test your patience to put you through your paces.”

“Indeed,” she smirked, teasingly pushing two of her fingers into Anastasia’s mouth, her breath hitching as her tongue swirled around them and her eyelashes fluttered like she was the picture of innocence. “And this may be the first relationship I’ve had where I’m actually not the kinkiest person, so that helps. I don’t have to worry about scaring you off or scarring you for life when your kink list is double the size of mine.”

Anastasia let her fingers go with a pop. “That’s exaggerating it. My kink list isn’t double the size of yours, Mrs. Oral Fixation.”

“It is substantially longer than mines,” she teased. “Not that I don’t love it. I find your willingness to try new things whilst knowing exactly what you like and what you need endearing and— oh, there’s a picture of you!”

The sudden shift of topic was dizzying but the biggest smile spread across Kamilah’s face as she dragged Anastasia towards a wall decorated with framed photographs of former students who’d found success after leaving the school. Seven photographs of each student were hung side by side, one professionally taken shot in full school uniform for every year they spent at the school. In the first image Anastasia appeared as an eleven year old in 2009, her thick ginger hair tied back into a ponytail and the braces on her teeth decorated with purple bands. In the second, her hair fell to just below her shoulders and had neatly cut bangs, her braces decorated with teal bands, and her lips painted with shimmery lip gloss. In the third, her hair was longer and styled into loose waves, decorated with a sparkly flower clip to keep her growing bangs out of her face, her braces now pink to match the lipstick she was wearing. In the fourth, the ends of her long hair had been dyed bright blue and her braces removed, her eyes heavily lined with black kohl. In the fifth, her hair was now a pale shade of blonde with pink tips, her makeup done flawlessly. In the sixth, her hair had been cut shorter and dyed black with teal ends, her makeup lighter than it was the year before. Then in the seventh, her hair was its natural colour once again and skirted her shoulders, and she no longer smiled with her teeth, her lipstick a dark shade of red and the wings of her eyeliner sharp enough to kill a man.

In every picture her looks may have been drastically different. But one thing was consistent in photo after photo; sadness. Her sadness made her impossibly beautiful, like snow blanketing a barren landscape. In each photo she was not yet the girl who’d set this world on fire with everything she had. She was alone, broken and small, like a delicate little butterfly with a broken wing fighting for life in the grass.

“Anastasia Sayeed née. Anastasia Swann,” Kamilah read, ignoring the pictures of mortal politicians, super models, actors, and sports stars hung next to hers. “Joined the school at the age of eleven after her parents decided she would have more opportunities to excel in England than her native Kazakhstan— well, that’s not true. Your parents were lazy assholes. Do these people know how to research?” She rolled her eyes. “When she arrived she spoke three languages fluently but still struggled greatly with the English language, which was initially detrimental to her school work, but she surprised everyone by achieving full marks in all nine of her GCSEs and four A-Levels, making her the only former student to have received a perfect score in every examination.”

“Oh stop,” Anastasia laughed as she tried and failed to drag her away from the photos. “I didn’t even study, the tests were just too easy to even qualify as tests at all. So it’s not that big an achievement—“

“If it wasn’t a big achievement then you wouldn’t be the only one to have accomplished it, and contrary from what your actions would sometimes have people believe, Mrs. I Can’t Make Toast Without Setting The Kitchen On Fire, you have an above average IQ.” 

“You can’t cook either, so that argument is—“

She put a hand over her mouth and continued to read, ignoring Anastasia furiously licking her palm in a bid to get her to let her go. “She went on to intern at Manon Financial whilst studying at New York University, but transferred after two years when the coursework failed to challenge her to double major in Business and Engineering at Belvoire University, where she was nominated her class valedictorian— they fail to mention you fucked your professor, how tragic.”

Anastasia grumbled and nipped at the palm covering her mouth.

“Be a good girl,” Kamilah scolded. “Honestly, I don’t know what you’re complaining about. This is fascinating.”

The Bloodkeeper rolled her eyes. Kamilah didn’t know why she paused to watch her as she held her close. Perhaps she had always done so, so captivated she was by her beauty. Even now, after all this time together, she still moved with the grace of someone not of this world. Her attention was focused entirely on Anastasia. The sight warmed her heart, and a small, lost part of her sparked with light.

“After graduating she began working as Adrian Raines’ personal assistant at Raines Corporation in New York City— oh, now we’re getting to the good stuff,” Kamilah teased, tightening her hold on her grumbling wife. She continued, “where she found herself at the centre of the world’s most affluent vampire society, and met her wife, Kamilah Sayeed— hah, I’m famous, my name made the wall!” She didn’t even bother to be discreet as she playfully smacked her ass with her free hand when she bit down on the palm covering her mouth. “Ignorant of her Bloodkeeper bloodline she aided New York’s vampire council in a number of battles and eventually sacrificed her mortal life killing a vampire by the name of Gaius Augustine— this is riveting journalism.” A laugh bubbled up in her throat and she continued reading, “After her Turning she became the first Bloodkeeper Vampire and led a small group of vampires in the fight against Rheya Apostolous, eventually upending the old world and ushering in a new where vampires no longer have to hide. She was the recipient of a Nobel Peace Prize for her work and currently heads the vampire council of New York City, is the CEO of Raines Corporation, was named a cultural ambassador of Kazakhstan, and is actively involved in a number of humanitarian, feminist, and LGBTQI organisations— oh, and look, they’ve even included a quote from the speech you delivered to the president!”

Anastasia groaned and pointed a finger gun at her own head.

Kamilah cleared her throat and began to read, “Everyone pays lip service to world peace. They use it as a pretty answer to pointless questions, to make themselves sound good but sometimes, being patriotic means calling out the problems rotting away your country. I'm not saying the vampire society doesn’t want to work with the mortal society. But my story and my work represents millions of voices throughout the world you're not hearing right now. If you want to preserve the spirit of what made The United States a world leader to begin with, you should take a look at your blind spots.” She beamed, filled with pride despite all her teasing, “I must admit I love how politely you called him an idiot and find the fact this quote has been immortalised here endlessly amusing.”

“Who knew my inability to keep myself out of trouble and show any respect for authority would take me this far?,” Anastasia grumbled as Kamilah finally let her go and burst into a mock applause. In the pictures, she still looked the same, having stopped ageing only four and a half years after the last one was taken. But she was a different person inside. She was a prodigy who knew the truth. She knew exactly what she was born to do and knew she was damn good at it. “I’m on the wall. I’ve called presidents idiots to their faces. I’m living the dream here.”

“I bet the teachers who underestimated you were seething with anger when these pictures were hung,” she smirked.

Anastasia huffed, a smirk twitching at her lips as she gestured towards a classroom down the hall. “Especially because I did detention in there at least once a week. I can’t even tell you how many times I was brought to look at these pictures by teachers I’d irritated and told I’d never see my face up there if I didn’t start conforming and stop pretending I couldn’t understand English anytime somebody said something I didn’t like or assigned work I didn’t feel like doing.”

“You still pretend you don’t understand English whenever somebody says something you don’t like or asks you to do something you don’t feel like doing.” She chuckled. “You did it this morning when I asked you why, at your age, you still thought cheesecake was an appropriate breakfast food.”

Anastasia blinked at her and when she spoke, she purposely thickened her accent and did her best to look clueless to what she’d just said. “I don’t understand.”

All the blood in Kamilah’s body rose to her cheeks and an amused sigh escaped from the back of her throat. “You have no business being this adorable. Stop it at once.”

“Either make me or spank me.”

Kamilah huffed and looked back at the images of the girl on the wall as she wrapped her wife up in her embrace. The girl who smiled at the camera with sad eyes that didn’t sparkle as they did now. The girl in the mask. The irony of life was that those who wore masks often told more truths than those with open faces, only to be punished for telling it like it was, for not conforming. Be true to yourself, is what people had been telling young girls for centuries. But that was something everyone said and no one really meant. No one wanted you to be yourself. They wanted you to be the version of yourself that they liked, that fit in to societal norms. The girl on the wall had refused to do that, though, and that was where a lot of her problems had lay. Someone should’ve praised her for embellishing her flaws, for they had turned into her greatest assets.

“Oh, and I lived in this supply closet for a week one time—“

“I’m sorry. You what?,” snorted Kamilah. “I know I did not hear that correctly.”

Anastasia shrugged, her lips curving into a sly smile as she opened the door to reveal her name carved in Cyrillic letters on the inside: Анастасия. “It was a dare... but now that I think of it, I’m not sure why I lived in the closet and didn’t just go to London for the week. It wasn’t my smartest moment.”

“Elaborate.”

“Okay, okay, so, a sixth former in the year above me dared me to convince the school I was going home because there had been some sort of family emergency and live in the closet for a week. Teachers didn’t really come here and it was easy thickening my accent to the point it sounded like I could barely string an English sentence together to sound like my mother calling into the office. The whole school was in on it by the end, so other students kept me fed and watered, and I’d sneak around at night to shower and stuff because the main building was completely empty after dinner. I even played around in the pool one night whilst blasting One Direction songs. Stayed up on the computers, another. Almost set myself on fire making Super Noodles on two separate occasions.” She smirked at the memory. “They didn’t have cameras then, so I’d mess up the classrooms and draw things on the boards, I even switched all the maths and english textbooks around so the teachers had no idea what hit them. I became quite the legend after I got away with it.”

She doubled over laughing. “Annie. What the hell? Why the hell?”

“I don’t know, it was a dare. Strong Kazakh girls don’t back out of a dare, especially not when the person who issued it was a wussy son of an aristocrat named Charles Alexander III.”

“I will never understand mortal teenagers.”

They continued to laugh like a pair of children as they walked around the school’s sprawling country campus. Every so often Anastasia would share a memory with her as she unsettled the dust that had fallen over her formative years... and Kamilah just listened, amazed, that out of this place had emerged this beautiful woman with the bluest eyes she’d ever seen, her heart still open and unjaded, holding her hand out to help her to her feet.

She could see her intelligence in every question she asked her and every observation she made. But at the same time, there was still an innocence to her that made her completely different from most of the people Kamilah had ever met. She was not too cynical or too jaded. Her life here and then everything after hadn’t broken her. It made her stronger instead.

Kamilah even managed to surprise herself by being perfectly civil when she met with some of the teachers who’d taught Anastasia and predicted she’d amount to nothing. The mortals didn’t even apologise for the awful things they’d once said to her, for people hated change even more than they hated being proven wrong. So Kamilah brought herself to laugh with them. She might’ve been imagining mixing poison into their wine glasses, then watching their ugly faces turn purple and anguished but that was irrelevant; she pictured herself leaning over them, looking on patiently, with her chin resting on her very successful wife’s shoulder, admiring their dying, writhing bodies as she counted out the minutes.

Fuck, she thought, she'd better never get that far. She wasn't sure she knew where to hide a body around here.

She found herself especially taken aback when they ran into a woman Anastasia had never mentioned before by the name of Chloe Miller as they wandered through the science labs. Who, on the verge of tears, had drawn her wife into the longest hug and thanked her for being so kind to her when they were growing up together. Chloe then proceeded to introduce Anastasia to her husband as ‘the one popular girl in school who didn’t bully me and wasn’t embarrassed to be seen eating with me when no one else would’. Something about that had tugged at Kamilah’s heart strings, for centuries of time had not made her entirely insensitive, especially when the woman went on to tell of the numerous times Anastasia had stepped in when other people were being less than kind to her. Perhaps it was because she knew how miserable Anastasia had been in her youth, and she knew on a personal level how easy it would’ve been for her to take that pain out on other people... yet she hadn’t done that. She’d had the strength to be kind instead.

Anastasia’s capacity for kindness had always amazed her. She happily spoke for those less fortunate than herself, who needed her help but couldn’t always ask for it. And she spoke for the ones who would come after her, too, looking to her for guidance.

“You never told me what you did for that girl,” Kamilah murmured as they continued on their tour.

Anastasia shrugged. “I mean, it didn’t seem like that big a deal from my perspective, you know? Like it sucks that treating somebody kindly is seen as this big thing instead of just the standard everybody should be held to.”

Kamilah spun her around. Before she could say anything else, she took her face in her hands. Then she was kissing her, overwhelming the Bloodkeeper with her warmth, breathing life and love and aching joy and sorrow into her. Anastasia looped her arms around her neck as Kamilah held hers around her waist. Anastasia’s lips parted for her and Kamilah’s mouth moved desperately against hers, devouring her, taking every breath that she had.

Being here, experiencing Anastasia sharing this part of her life with her, it was like her ancient heart had been torn wide open, just like she both hoped and feared it would be, and she had no willpower to close it back up. Any barrier she might've succeeded in putting up around herself long ago, any resistance she might've once tried to put against the depths of her feelings for her, had been completely gone for some time now and being here only made that more evident. Shattered into dust.

“You’re amazing, you know that?,” she murmured against her lips. “Billions of people will come and go in this world, but there will never be another like you.”

~ fin.


End file.
